


Sugar And Spice

by twilightopal



Category: Inanimate Insanity (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon LGBTQ Character, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guidance Counselors, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Multi, Nonbinary Character, Other, Post-Divorce, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2020-07-09 09:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19885597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightopal/pseuds/twilightopal
Summary: After injuring a student, Paintbrush is on the verge of expulsion. With a scholarship on the line, Principal Mephone will let Paintbrush stay at school with partial consequences under one condition--school counseling with Counselor Mepad for the rest of their senior year. With no other options, Paintbrush grudgingly accepts. Expecting hell from the moment they walked into the door, everything changes when Paintbrush meets his student assistant Lightbulb, a ditzy and carefree girl who happens to be in the same grade. A story of growing up and humanity, this is a story of the sweet and spicy moments that occur in our lives.





	1. ~1~

" **I'm going to be blunt with you, Paintbrush.** "

Paintbrush shifted their hands in their lap, staring down to the floor. Their fingers brushed atop the bandage wrapped upon their right hand, pulsating from even the lightest amount of pressure. They didn't have much courage to look at their school principal in the eyes, considering the reason they were called there to begin with.  
And thinking about it, it was an absolutely regrettable decision.  
Glancing upward, Principal Mephone looked at them with a stern expression. One of seriousness, and completely different from the vibrant and fairly rash exterior the student body had come to know. It was a bit off-putting, but it made sense.  
Paintbrush took a deep breath, and looked at Principal Mephone in the eyes.

"This is a serious situation. You could face possible expulsion."  
"I know you're on the path to a scholarship, and if you are indeed expelled, all that hard work will be gone."

Paintbrush's eyes widened, and gritted her teeth.

"Y-You can't just _take_ something like that away!"   
"I've worked hard to come to this point. You can't just retract that over something so silly—"

Principal Mephone leered at Paintbrush, and despite their fury, silenced themselves.  
As he took out a wrapped cookie from what seemed to be a local bakery, he spoke to them.

"You _really_ don't think injuring a student is a big deal?"  
"Did you not hear the word _expulsion_ correctly?"

Taking a bite out of his cookie, he continued to speak.

"There's no second chances. Your future— _done for_."  
"I'm not certain if your scholarship will even be intact. You should be thankful the school board is even _considering_ this."

Paintbrush pinched their leg in what seemed to be a total mix of emotions. It was something they could word to be nothing but indescribable. All they could really do was bite their lip in discomfort.

"Speaking of consideration, I need you to give me an explanation on what went down." Mephone asked.

"Wait, _seriously_?" Paintbrush asked.  
"I thought you already got everything you needed to know ."

"Oh, I already do." Mephone replied.  
"Kinda dumb in this situation, but we still have to get an account from the guilty party themselves."

Paintbrush let out a sigh as Principal Mephone had taken another bite of his cookie. Taking out a pencil and a notebook, he began to write as Paintbrush began to utter the beginning of it all.

**~ Three Hours Ago ~**

" _Okay guys, listen up_!"

OJ stepped up onto a chair, and looked around with a triumphant expression.

"This project is worth nearly half of our overall grade for this semester. The six of us have got to give it our all and work as hard as we can!"

"You say that like we already know what we're doing." Nickel retorted.

"And that's why _I_ came up with a gameplan." OJ replied.  
"Given that this is a huge presentation, I believe we should do it on a topic that can resonate with many—perseverance. Not just in a metaphorical sense, but in an empowering way that can at least get us higher than a B."  
"Since I was appointed the leader in our assigned group, I decided to assign roles based upon the strengths and weaknesses of each and every one of us. Nickel can be our spokesperson, Trophy can be our multimedia manager, Paper can be our video creator, Fan can be our social media manager, and Paintbrush can be in charge of the presentation!"  
"If anyone has an issue with their roles or anything of the sort, feel free to come to me about it and I'll try to resolve it the best I can."

The five nodded, and soon the group began to get to work.

Taking a laptop from the cart provided to the students, Paintbrush logged in and began to type a draft of what was soon to become the first edition of their presentation.

_What does it truly mean to persevere_?

That was the basis of the presentation. To Paintbrush, perseverance meant working hard, keeping your head up high in order to achieve your goals. They felt confident in this mindset, but they need to make a connection to not just themselves, but the others around them.   
Getting up to ask OJ for a copy of the rubric, they looked up and saw OJ, who instead of working was doing nothing more than modeling around.  
He took a glance at his phone, and sighed. He stared at the rubrics in front of him, and took a copy.

_Of all the people our teacher could make a group leader_..

Nickel and Trophy were working on the multimedia presentation, despite sharing a some pessimistic glances to one another. Paper was talking with Fan about the video, and how it should be promoted. Fan unsurprisingly, had his mind in a completely different world.

As Paintbrush was about to continue working on the presentation itself, a finger tapped them on the shoulder. They turned around, and it happened to be none other than OJ.

"Can I talk to you outside for a second?" OJ asked.

"Uh, sure." Paintbrush replied.

OJ and Paintbrush walked out to the hall, and OJ closed the door.

"Listen, Paintbrush. I need a favor from you." Oj says.

"Can you..uh..take over for a little while?"

Paintbrush looked at OJ with a confused, yet sudden expression.

"Take over? For what?" They replied.

"I-I have to take care of some business." OJ replied.  
"There's some kind of misunderstanding I've been tangled into and—"

"You're _seriously_ betting a misunderstanding on our project?" Paintbrush retorted.  
"It may be important to you, but this project should be held higher than that, especially since this is worth almost half of our grade for the first half of the year."

OJ sighed, and spoke to Paintbrush.

"Look Paintbrush, you might not understand. You're a hard worker. The only reason I chose you to help me out is because well—you're a valuable asset compared to everyone else. Besides Paper, everyone on this team is either absolutely cynical or just has their head in the clouds. I know you can be a bit on the _aggressive_ side, but when you put your mind to it you're a hard worker!"

"Are you saying that none of us having been putting any effort but yourself?" Paintbrush spat.  
"You've literally been staring at the _god damn_ rubric the whole time!"

"Woah, there's no need to stress. Calm yourself." OJ replied.  
"God, if I knew you'd act like this I would've never chose you to even do—"

In the blink of an eye, OJ had fallen to the floor. The environment around him has become inaudible as the air had been knocked out out of his body. He looked up at Paintbrush, who's eyes began to combust with fury. Their expression had turned bitter, and their teeth were gritted.

"Stop acting like you've done anything of value!"  
"A narcissist running our group, that teacher must've made the _biggest_ mistake of their lives. You've practically done nothing but sit around and look at a piece of paper for twenty minutes. Such a _quality leader_ if you asked me."

"Paintbrush, calm down!" OJ said, chuckling in discomfort.  
"This isn't really the time to—"

"Oh, so you don't have time? You don't have any _fucking_ time to contribute to anything?" Paintbrush leered.

Paintbrush grabbed OJ by the collar, and pinned him to the wall.

"Answer me, do you not have the time for any of this?" Paintbrush yelled, their brow furrowed.  
" **Do you**?!"

The door swung open, and out came Paper and Trophy. Along came Nickel, who was a bit on the shorter side.

" **Paintbrush, stop**!"

Paper grabbed onto Paintbrush, and tried to pull them back. Nickel joined in the effort, and Paintbrush thrashed to weave themselves out of their clutches.

As Fan came out flashing his camera at the ongoing predicament, Trophy sneered.

"So much for having to work with them. I _knew_ they couldn't even last a week."

" **Might as well be in a mental asylum for all we know. A bipolar waste of space if you know what I mean**."

In that very moment, it was Trophy that hit the nail in the coffin. Paintbrush turned to face them, and their expression had become not bitter but rather, with such amounts of resentment that you could see the flames that formed in their eyes. Fan's eyes widened as they took the phone that resided in his hands, and darted it to the ground. The glass shattered as it slid near the right side of the hall. Fan's eyes brimmed with tears as he remained silent, stepping back quickly. Trophy stared at Fan, who gave him an uneasy and jumbled smirk.

"Oh, so we're gonna brawl now?" Trophy said, laughing.  
"Come at me. Bring it on, you _hot-headed bi_ —"

A crack could be heard echoing throughout the halls. A blunt force lashed onto Trophy, and unleashed it's fury onto his jaw. His body launched towards the wall, and his lungs ached as the air in his body was completely knocked out of him. He fell to the floor, blood beginning to flow from his nose.

It was as if time itself has come into a complete halt. Students were out in the halls, peeking at what had just occurred. A tone of shock and unease could be felt throughout the halls, a few students laughing in an awkward fashion. Nickel's eyes were widened, as Fan grimaced not only at his phone, but at Trophy himself. Trophy was sprawled on the floor, appearing to be unconscious. His jaw appeared to be a bit bloody and dislocated, the obvious assumption to his jaw being broken. Paper was nowhere to be found, and OJ looked as if he'd seen the devil itself.  
Paintbrush took a glance at their fist, blood trickling near their knuckles. Their heart drummed violently as they took a long, shaky breath.

**And they too, would begin to experience that breathlessness**.

~

" _I see_."

Principal Mephone clicked his tongue, and took a final bite into his cookie.

"I'll be having a meeting with your parents tomorrow morning to discuss this with them in further detail. As for you, you'll be receiving a three day suspension for the time being."

"You're _kidding_ , right?" Paintbrush retorted.

"Oh, I'm kidding alright." Mephone responded.  
"Unless you want your suspension to be—I don't know—extended?"

Paintbrush fell silent, and responded with a small nod.

Going home was going to be nothing but a nightmare.

~

**Be your biggest competitor**.

It was a quote that he at first had found on the internet, but soon had turned into a phrase he took to heart. It was a phrase that could describe his motivations and mindset all in one sentence. It was a phrase he could also share with other, hoping that they could take it to heart in the same way the he himself had done.  
He was a counselor after all, and it was his duty to help people out by all means necessary.   
As he looked through his emails, he noticed the most recent message, sent to him by none other than Principal Mephone himself.

**To: Mepad (Counseling Department)**  
 **From: Mephone**  
 **Subject: Important Meeting**  
__________________________________  
 _Hello, Mepad. I have an important meeting tomorrow with the parents of a student in the senior class. I'd like you to be present for the meeting, as I'd like to create an alternative solution to one present currently. The student's name is Paintbrush. You have access to student data just as I do, so you can look up their full information later. The meeting will take place at 8:30 am. Come to my office at 8 so I can give you a basic summary. Thank you._  
__________________________________

_Alternative Solution?_

Mephone and Mepad has a fairly stable relationship, in and out of the workplace. There were only two other times Mephone had asked him to be present for something such as this, one serious and the other being for needs rather than delinquency. No matter the means, Mepad would be present nonetheless.

After all, dealing with students like these is what made this job enjoyable to him.

**~ The Next Day ~**

" _Sit down, please_."

Mephone sat in his chair as the pair sat down in a set of chairs. Mepad sat to the side, facing slightly towards the parents of Paintbrush.

"You two have already been informed of the situation at hand, so there's no need in explaining every single detail all over again. We've had a discussion with Paintbrush yesterday afternoon and after gathering her account, we've come to the conclusion that we aren't resorting to an expulsion—but rather an alternative."

"That my friends, is where he comes in."

Mephone pointed at Mepad with a cheesy smile, and  
Mepad gave slight jazz hands.

"Based upon your concerns, we've agreed to do something that we've done in the past—school counseling." Mepad explained.  
"We've experimented with this method with two other students in the past, one who is currently in their senior year at this school. The other transferred due to unfortunate circumstances, but overall, the results of doing this have been incredibly positive. It's every day after school for one hour, although I do check in with them during school from time to time based upon their schedule. But that job is mainly done by my student assistant, who coincidentally is also in the senior class."  
"I can guarantee you that your child will be in great hands."

The couple looked at each other, as if signaling each other. The father nodded, and responded casually.

"That would be wonderful. When would this start, exactly?"

"Since they're in suspension, it'll start right after they get back to school. We usually have a small period of time before it generally starts, so in a way it kind of fits!" Mepad responded.

Looking at the mother one more time, the father answered Mepad.

" **Let's do it**."


	2. ~2~

" **You're kidding**."

Paintbrush grimaced at what their parents had just told them. They expected something absolutely degrading, something that would bring up the absolute clause of 'atoning for your actions'. But none of those were the case at all—rather, it was nothing but one simple phrase.

Counseling.

Paintbrush had never been to a school counselor, nor had they ever been to one for any other particular reason. The fact that this was even happening felt nothing but bizarre to them.

"Honey, it was the best solution presented to us. The only one albeit, but it's better than you being expelled from the school system." Their mother replied.  
"We already have to pay a portion of the hospital fees, and we should be thankful that the situation wasn't worse than it is now. Your scholarship may have been revoked, but the fact that you only got a three day suspension after breaking someone's jaw is something you should be very thankful for."

"But Mom, this entire thing is ridi—"

"I want _none_ of it. You are going to do this, no complaints. You're facing the consequences of your actions one hundred percent."

Paintbrush replied with a nod, and went up to their room. They flopped onto their bed and let out a sigh.

 _He deserved it_.

"Calling me bipolar, mental... **what a sleaze**!"

But in the end, did they _really_ have to hit him?   
It was the question that ran through their mind the most. It wasn't exactly necessary, but they exacted their vengeance.  
They called them something they didn't like. Something that was nothing but petty.

 **Something that they could've easily ignored**.

_Thinking about it, I didn't have to push OJ to the floor either._

But that thought was pushed far into the back of their mind. They kicked their legs back and forth in pure frustration, and groaned.

 ** _Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day_**.

-

 **He could already see the dozens of eyes peering at Paintbrush as she walked down the halls**.

It was something that he'd experienced a few years back, and had witnessed with someone the senior class was once close with. He never knew her as well as others had, so their departure didn't really affect them on an emotional level. It was still upsetting to see the others emotional during that time though. He remembered Pickle's reaction to it fairly well, as everyone did, since it wasn't exactly positive. He wasn't in school for a while either, it really had gotten to him. But by the time he was back, it was as if nothing had happened from that start.

 **And in the end, he found that to be for the better**.

Everyone had forgotten about what had happened to her, and that was a huge relief. Of course, he had one friend that's been by his side before everything even happened. He's refrained from getting close to anyone, really, but he was the only exception to this rule. Maybe this dilemma he'd been facing was why he'd become so cautious in the first place.

Maybe that's why he was such a coward.

But in the end, he never minded these flaws of his. It's what made him unique.

The flaws that manifested inside of him were just something he had to live with.  
And as long as he had that one special person by his side, he didn't need to change.

 **But at this very moment, that once beautiful thought had become something of the past**.

Anxiety crawled onto his neck as he shivered.   
He saw as Paintbrush looked at him, and in an instant, had turned away immediately.

 _Those feelings are rising up agai_ n.

He picked up his pace as anxiety began to creep towards him faster. He could feel those emotions building up, waiting to unleash upon the world. All he could focus on was running.

 **It was one of the few things he was good at**.

-

**Paintbrush let out a sigh as they worked on their assignment.**

They could feel the dozens of eyes peering at them, which put them slightly on edge. Trophy wasn't in school today, which to them was an absolute relief. If he were, things would be pretty tense. Looking up, she saw OJ, who's radar was to his phone.

 _Probably gossiping or something_.

Thinking about it, today had felt much longer than usual. Maybe it's because they were practically doing nothing but drawing lines in a spiral notebook, or focusing on each beady eye staring at them throughout the classroom. It was as if the class was staring at some sort of placebo, a prototype. Something practically unusual.

But as these thoughts had begun to crawl inside of their mind, the door flew open.  
Paintbrush looked behind them, and the sight behind them was quite possibly, unusual.

" **LIGHTBULB, WHAT KIND OF BOLLY WONKIN' SHENANIGANS ARE YA UP TO**?!"

Most students, as per usual, jumped at Mr. Toilet's comment. Not everyone was used to his tone, considering he'd only been here for about two years as a teacher. No one minded the accent though.

 _Lightbulb_?

Thinking about it, they'd seen this girl in the hallway before. Her hair was a bright, creamy blonde and pretty much was known for going with the flow. All they knew about her was only through the word of mouth.

The main attraction at the moment, however, was the toppled shelf on the floor. On top of that, Lightbulb lay in the floor, covering their eye while laughing.

"Should we call the nurse?" OJ said awkwardly.

"There's no need for that, _buddy ol' chum_!"

Lightbulb sprang up as if nothing had even happened. She let out a beaming smile, and walked over to none other than Paintbrush.

In just seconds, Paintbrush could feel a tugging sensation on the collar of their shirt.

And in the next second, Paintbrush was being carried bridal style out of the room.

"I'mborrowingthemforasecondthanksbye—!"

The door was kicked closed, and the class was in nothing but awe.

"..."  
" **Welp, I guess I'm using Mistah Phone's warranty again!** "

-

**Paintbrush couldn't bring themselves to speak.**

The entire situation had gone by so fast, they never noticed the fact that they were indeed being carried by Lightbulb.

"Could you uh... _let me down_?" Paintbrush asked.

"Nope." Lightbulb replied.  
"You're my prisoner now, _obviously_. What kind of guard would let a prisoner escape?"

 _This girl's got screws lose_!

"Where are you... _taking_ me, exactly?" Paintbrush asked.

"Taking you?" Lightbulb questioned.  
"You know exactly where I'm going, you _dunderhead_!"

As Lightbulb responded, she stopped in front of a door in a hallway they were fairly unfamiliar with. She knocked on the door with her foot, and shouted.

"Mepad, I got them right where you want em'!"

 _Mepad_?

The door opened, and the figure in question have come into the light.

"Ah, Lightbulb. I see you brought Paintbrush like I asked." Mepad said.  
"And next time, please don't bring them in like that or break anything in someone's classroom."

" _Aye aye_ , sir!" Lightbulb saluted.

"And how rude of me to introduce myself. I'm Mepad by the way." Mepad said with a small smile.

" **I've been expecting you**."


	3. ~3~

**Paintbrush tapped their foot on the ground, still attempting to process the whole situation**.

Mepad was staring at them as they sat in the chair, facing one another. Lightbulb was spinning around in another chair, but Mepad didn't exactly seem to mind it.

"So, there's something I need to ask you Paintbrush." Mepad said.  
" **Why'd you do it**?"

"You're _seriously_ asking me this." Paintbrush replied.

" _Duh_ , you're our prisoner! My friend Mepad here is in charge of your interrogation, and I'm his trusty sidekick." Lightbulb said, looking them in the eye.  
"Did ya commit the crime or not?"

"I was already questioned by the principal, so why do you guys have to come and ask me the same thing?" Paintbrush spat.

"Ooh, we've got a retort!" Lightbulb replied, putting her hands on their shoulders.  
" _They're a tough one, Sherlock_."

"That's enough, Watson." Mepad said.  
"Could you give me a hand with those papers while I 'interrogate' them?"

"You got it, chief!" Lightbulb replied with a salute.

It seemed that the two were on to their surprise, good terms. Mepad was probably used to her antics by now, and who knows how long they'd been working together?  
Mepad cleared his throat, and continued to speak.

"So as I was saying, _why_?"

Paintbrush bit their cheek in distress. They weren't going answer this, but nonetheless, they had to. What's the point in answering the same exact question all over again? Their mind raced as they looked down to the floor.

 _You could just lie to him._  
_No, you idiot! He's a school counselor! Anything you say could be used against you!_  
_But that doesn't mean he wouldn't notice._  
_He has a PSYCHOLOGY DEGREE on his wall!_

" **Are you going to answer me**?"

Paintbrush's head bolted up as Mepad stared at them.

"My bad, it wasn't my intention to startle you." Mepad said as he waved his hands.  
"You can respond when you're ready to do so."

Twiddling their fingers, Paintbrush took a deep breath.

"Trophy's just—he called me names and—in general he's a jerk. Said I should be put in a mental ward, it—it just pissed me off."

Paintbrush continued to speak as Mepad nodded and wrote in a spiral notebook.

"He thinks he's tough just because he does sports, you know? Thinking he can do whatever the hell he wants to other people and get away with it, he's even worse than OJ."

"OJ, you say?" Mepad asked.

"He's completely narcissistic!" Paintbrush replied.  
"Putting such petty things over things that are actually important, and he looks down on us! Like, are we on some kind of caste system or something to him? I don't even know how Paper can even keep OJ on his good side."

Mepad kept writing, and slightly but surely, curved his lips into a small smile.

 _Everything was going just as planne_ d.

-

 **He hadn't appeared at school since the incident**.

Trophy's absence from school was reasonable—he'd obviously broken his jaw, so he'd most likely be at home recovering by now. Paper on the other hand, had not shown up.  
It worried him to a great extent. He'd gone here long enough to know that if someone's absent for a while, something had happened, whether it be serious or not.

**So it was without question that OJ had decided to take a 'personal' detour after school that day.**

He knocked on the door, awaiting a response. He'd brought missing work from the classes they shared, bringing much unease with him as well. Looking at the driveway, it seemed like his parents weren't home either.

 _Looks like I've got no choice_.

OJ flipped over the mat near the front entrance, and revealed a spare house key. He put the key in the lock, and opened the door.  
The house felt nearly empty. Natural light shone throughout the house as OJ's footsteps echoed through the halls.

"Paper?" He shouted.

No response.  
He expected this. After all, it's always went like this.

_I know you're here._

He went up the stairs, and knocked on the door to Paper's room.

No response.

"Paper, I know you're in there." OJ said. He knocked on the door again, and once again, there was no response.

_Looks like I'm doing the usual._

OJ took out a Bobby pin form his pocket, and placed it inside the door. He toyed with it, finding the hole that functioned the lock. After a few seconds, the door had opened.  
OJ dashed in the room, and looked at Paper's bed. The bed was unmade, and Paper lay there, wrapped in a large blanket. OJ walked over to him, and shook him on the shoulder.

"Paper? It's OJ." He said.

He could feel the flinch of Paper's shoulder as he touched it. Paper's body twitched, and he could hear a small breath sprout from his body.

He slowly crawled onto the bed, and looked to have a clear view of Paper's face.  
His face looked pale as he stared at the wall blankly. His eyes were glossed and disarrayed, a dried up tear on his left cheek. OJ sighed, and smiled faintly. He locked his hand with Paper's icy hand. Paper's skin clashed with the warmth of OJ's body, and his body shifted.

"O-OJ?" Paper said, his voice wavering.  
"What are you doing here?"

"What am _I_ doing here? You haven't been to school almost _all week_!" OJ replied.  
"I got worried, and I thought that something might've, well—I got scared."  
Paper chuckled lightly, and sighed. His expression deepened as the small smile faded.

" **I told you not to come here anymore, you know**."

OJ's brows furrowed as Paper said those words.

"You saying that won't stop me from coming anyways. No one _asked_ me to help you out. Not Mepad or your parents, I'm doing this because I want to." OJ replied.  
"You're my friend, Paper. And as your friend, it's my duty to look out for you."

Paper looked at OJ, and twiddled his fingers. It was obvious to OJ that Paper wasn't going to make a retort anytime soon—so OJ decided to changed the subject instead.

"Y'know, Paintbrush got swooped out of class today." OJ said.  
The mention of Paintbrush irked Paper a little bit, but OJ brushed it off for the time being.

"Apparently Lightbulb crashed into the classroom and broke a bookshelf. Then, she just grabbed Paintbrush out of nowhere and carried them bridal style out of the room."

"Lightbulb's unpredictable." Paper snickered as he stared up to the ceiling.

OJ chuckled in return.

  
"If you asked me, she's probably the most mysterious person in our grade." OJ said.

"Lightbulb? Seriously?" Paper replied.  
"Have you completely forgotten about... _you know_?"

"Taco, yeah yeah. You guys act as if saying her name would cause the fucking apocalypse." OJ sneered.

"I-I mean in some way, just the slight mention of her gets everyone all riled up. What happened to Taco was a big deal." Paper replied.

OJ looked down. Paper wasn't wrong. What happened to her really had an effect on _everyone_. It was a bit jarring to think about, but it felt as if what happened caused some sort of increase in cynicism—and as a result, had unraveled a darker side of everyone at school. Except Nickel, he'd been a cynical individual form the moment everyone laid their eyes on him.

"Yeah, everyone loved her." OJ said.  
"You both did have similar issues, after all."

"Antisocial Personality Disorder or something." Paper sighed.  
"She's not exactly a bad person though, it's what she did that was unforgivable. But the question is...why?"

The room had gone silent.  
For no one had known the exact answer.  
In a way, it was the reason everyone's perception of her had been so baffling.

 **Taco herself, would always remain a mystery**.


	4. Chapter 4

**"So, where are ya heading?"**

Paintbrush groaned at her comment. From the moment they'd left Mepad's office, Lightbulb had been talking nearly the entire walk home. From the moment they'd left school, Lightbulb had begun to strike all sort of conversation. From how the limbs on a crab function to the theory of magical creatures somehow existing, somehow, Lightbulb was able to make conversation out of practically any subject. It was something that was jarring to Paintbrush, yet at the same time slightly impressive.

After what seemed like hours of walking, Lightbulb stopped near an intersection.

"Well, I'd love to chat some more, but this is my stop!" Lightbulb said.  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Painty!"

Paintbrush waved as Lightbulb ran across the street. Walking home, they thought about the oddity that was _today_.  
It all seemed like some sort of weird dream—but in reality, it was far from fiction. They grimaced a little, their expression deepening.

_If only I wasn't so stupid.._

The wind breathed a gust towards them, their hair wild as it blew in all sorts of directions.  
Covering a chunk of their hair with their hand, Paintbrush dashed home as the cracks of lightning began to shake the skies.

~

" **You were supposed to be home an hour ago**."

A tear of sweat rolled down OJ's forehead. Panic filled his mind as he struggled to say something back to his mom.  
It was the third time in the past few days he hadn't been back for dinner. His mother looked at him with a powerful scorn, his little sister imitating her every movement.

  
_So much for siblings. They're influenced by everything._

"Please don't tell me you're seeing that boy." His mom said.

"I told you not to see him anymore."

His hands began to sweat. _Badly_. His mother didn't exactly hate Paper, far from it. They were nice to him just as they were with most people they'd encountered. But ever since that day--that damn day, his parent no longer saw him as 'OJ's Amazing And Kind Best Friend' but now as 'That Lunatic From _The_ _Shining_ '.

"...so what if I see my best friend, Mom?" OJ said, his voice cracking.

"I care about him, we've been friends since second grade. What's the deal, huh? I can't see my best friend? I can't care about anybody? You'd rather let me leave him alone rather then letting me give a fuck about--"

" **YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH, YOUNG MAN**!"

OJ froze.

"How many times do we have to have this conversation? The boy is _dangerous_! You know what he did to that girl. You know where she went, OJ? _The hospital_."

"I can understand if you don't agree with my decision, but we're doing what's best for you. We don't want you to get in any trouble. Your father's said the same exact thing to you as well."

 _Dad_. Of course she had to mention him. Why even bother mentioning him, acting like everything is fine and dandy between the two of them? OJ's thoughts began to turn into one's of anger. He could feel himself gritting his teeth, his hands trembling from the sheer weight his name had on him. He wanted to scream, yell, _choke_ somebody. He wanted no association with him, nothing at all even under his last breath--but his mother's words snapped him back into reality.

"And as much as you don't like me saying it, I have been talking to your father. Just because he doesn't live here anymore _does not_ mean he can't be a parent to you."

"You still have to treat him with respect. Even after...everything, you know?"

But OJ didn't bother to hear the rest. By the time she opened her mouth to keep talking, he'd already sped up to his room. He plopped himself onto his bed, and without any delay, screamed into his pillow.

_She thinks I can just forgive him after everything he did?_

No matter how many times anyone could tell him, he wouldn't forgive him even if he were to win the lottery _._ OJ _hated_ liars, and his dad was someone he considered to be the worst one of all. And no matter how much she tried to hide it, OJ knew his mom was having an even harder time coping with it than he was. He was someone that she'd poured her heart and soul out to, devoted to making this person happy as much as they could be. But, it seems the person that she loved so much couldn't keep his dick in his pants. He'd had an affair with another woman, not only cheating on his wife, but getting the woman he preyed pregnant in the process. The day his mom found out, OJ's mom had lost _all_ control of herself. The next few hours after that was something that OJ wished he could've forgotten.

When OJ took his face out of the pillow, he realized how emotional he'd gotten. His face was wet with tears, and his nose had become runny with snot. He wiped his eyes and nose quickly, making sure his mom wasn't outside of the door listening to him cry and sob. Crying in front of others was embarrassing to him. He slumped, and consumed himself to sleep's wishes. His baggy eyes complied easily, and by the time his mom had opened the door, OJ was out cold.


	5. ~5~

_To Paper, it was a sound that shattered his world_.

From the moment he heard that crack, he could already feel the sirens going off in his head. It all had happened in the blink of an eye—one moment Paintbrush walked out of the room, and the next they'd sent Trophy and OJ flying. It was strange seeing Trophy look so small, but even to him, that was a thought that felt like nothing more than a blur. He wanted to forget about it as much as he could. He was aware what occurrences like these had done to him, the kind of things that would resurface if he kept looking at it for even a few more seconds. So in the end, it wasn't a surprise that he'd run off without anyone taking even a second glance.  
Turning towards the janitor's closet, he bolted the door open, and closed it just as fast as he had opened it. His body slid to the floor, each breath becoming harder and harder to control. Knees buried in his face, he tried to calm down and focus. He could hear the steps of students flocking to witness that madness that was happening just a few meters away from him. Each step felt like it was being pushed into his eardrums, the sounds just growing louder and louder, and the urge to scream was suppressed in his throat. He didn't want _it_ to happen again. He didn't want to become _it_ , nor did he want to even experience the actions of _it_ when he came back to his senses. It hadn't happened for a while, but with lots of therapy (and the power of medication), he'd been able to recognize his triggers as soon as they appeared. Violence like this, of course, was one of them. Maybe it was the adrenaline of watching scenes like the one occurring outside, but seeing things like that made him nauseous at the sight of it. He took a breath in, and another out. His heart rate was slowing down, which was a relief to him. If it had gotten any worse, who knows what would be happening right now. But, that anxiety left a sense of paranoia. There's no way that something like this wouldn't stick through people minds.

_Moments like this are things people always remember._

No one forgot how Bow died, Balloon's stunt, neither did anyone forget Taco's actions towards Pickle either. Strange things like this had lead their year to be...quite disconnected compared to the other students. Especially since the recent merging of their schools. Noticing that the commotion had died down, he decided to finally open the door.  
 **He didn't return to class that day.**

**-**

" _Oh my god_."  
Fan could feel his leg bounce in his seat. Rubbing his thumbs together, he typed away on his phone with brimming accuracy and speed.

**Trophy was actually at school.**

Was he putting this on his blog? Of course he was, this is Fan we're talking about. Window seat, two seats away from where Trophy was sitting. He still looked like an absolute wreck, and you could clearly tell they had to do at least some sort of procedure to get his jaw healed up. Analyzing these sorts of things only made him type even faster, and he could feel his excitement brimming, but also brewed a sense of anxiety on the side. Once he hit the _publish_ button, he immediately kept his hands busy messaging Test Tube.

Fan: **Trophy actually showed up!!!**  
Test Tube: **The jeebweezer actually showed? Interesting**  
Fan: **Who knows what kind of things will happen? It's honestly kind of scary.**

Just as he hit send, the room went silent.  
Paintbrush entered the classroom, walking to their seat and putting their backpack down beside them. Everyone in the room could feel the tension brewing between Paintbrush and Trophy, as Trophy's quite aggressive glare towards them wasn't enough of a hint. Fan didn't really think he'd be able to forget that fateful day—his phone being smashed to the ground, and obviously watching Trophy being beaten half to death by Paintbrush's own hands was quite the interesting (and bloody) spectacle to behold. Even after almost two weeks, people were still buzzing on about the fight. All sorts of rumors would come of, the story changing bit by bit. But the fact still remained that no one, and I mean no one, should ever get on Paintbrush's bad side. _Ever._ After what happened, Fan suspected that not many people would really go near them for a while.

_And even throughout the majority of the day, this tension stayed resonant._

From that period onward, the whispers through the halls became even more evident. They weren't exactly whispers anymore, and at this point, people were actually speaking their mind in quite the audible manner. Working on the semester project didn't seem as fun anymore either, since no one really talked to each other. Sure, his teammates were present, but the atmosphere made him anxious. Even Nickel, who looked like he never had a care in the world since the project began, wore a stressful look. Everyone only really gave each other the occasional glance, and that was that. It was a complete disconnect, and he couldn't help but worry.   
Even during lunch, Test Tube noticed his lingering worries.

-

"Eugh. I can't _imagine_ the tension in there!" Test Tube said.  
In the end, Fan had practically told Test Tube everything. This wasn't supposed to be a therapy session, this was supposed to be lunch.

"It's not like I didn't expect something like this but, it's just so...strange, you know?" Fan replied.  
"I don't think anyone's been this shaken up since-"

"- _the Taco incident_. Everyone knows what happens before our schools merged." Test Tube said as she took the words from Fan's mouth.

Ah yes, _that incident_. Fan couldn't help but recall all the talk that spread around from the moment the merge had began. Rumors of drama, and a death that practically left an entire classroom traumatized for who knows how long. You could tell there was a sense of unity between that set of classmates, though. Sure, a lot happened, but they all stuck with each other through thick and thin. Most of the time, at least.

"I've heard the principal is pretty upset about it, too. Not even two years as a new school, and there's already some big blow to the school's reputation." Test Tube added.  
"Believe me, seeing all those videos of the fight give me the _jeebies_."

"Speaking of jeebies, I haven't seen Paper lately." Fan said.

"Paper? What's with the thought of him all of a sudden? You two don't even interact that much." Test Tube replied.

"Ever since the fight, he hasn't been to school. Even OJ disappeared today. Doesn't it feel suspicious that people are dropping like flies?" Fan said.  
"First Paintbrush got carried out of the classroom by Lightbulb, Paper hasn't been to school since the incident, OJ didn't come to school today, and at this point, who knows? Maybe the entire senior class won't _show up_ anymore!"

"Maybe they have things going on. I mean, we all know what Paper's been through. But now that you mention it, it's kinda strange, isn't it?" Test Tube replied.

**_It was strange._**  
So many things were changing at once. So many that Fan couldn't even begin to keep track. He could feel his hands tremble at this thought, and by impulse, he immediately took out his computer.

"Hey, Test Tube?" Fan asked.  
" **How about we solve this mystery for ourselves?** "


End file.
